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“Our marriage contracts have no divorce.” Eoghan supplied. “But if she kills him, fine. You have a bargain, since the lad is dead set on her.”
“You’re a sick, twisted fucker, you know that, Irish?” Jericho said with a chuckle. With a flick of his finger, he and his stooges started to file out of the room. “Her name will officially be Rose Marie Vasilieva. That’s what will be in the marriage contracts.”
That was his final word.
Before Jericho could walk through the door, I called out to him. “We’ll give you beautiful grandchildren!”
That made him stop and look back at me. If looks could kill, I would have been a pile of ashes on the floor. So I laughed. “Pleasure doing business with you, father-in-law.”
The woman looked at me and grinned before turning away.
“He’s not so bad,” she said to Jericho as they walked away.
“Shut up,” was his only response as he flipped me the bird with one hand and punched her in the arm with his other.
Chapter 39
Rose
Growingbackintomyold name was like putting on an old pair of jeans. I had spoken to Lea a few times, and it was like meeting a sister. Once I got over the bleached hair, I realized that we looked, and at times even moved alike.
“If you have to join that fight,” she said, meaning Jericho and Alastair’s mafia war. “Then I’ll keep these guys at bay.”
She looked at me with those huge brown eyes, which were much darker than my own. There was something haunting about them. It was like being drawn into a black hole.
“You don’t think I need to be protected?” I thought back to Geordie’s words and the orders Alastair had left behind.
“The world needs to be protected from us,” she hissed. “Not the other way around.”
And she left me with a wink, and a new understanding. It was almost silly, now, that I had avoided her. Like denying the existence of my own limb. And I made a plan to do exactly what she suggested.
I had gotten back into the clinic room to get my things, and found the 9mm Beretta from my shooting on top of the black laptop my father had left.
I had forgotten the laptop existed, since I had given up on it.
But it was here now, and I just felt… tugged. Like it was calling to me.
What had Brett told me? Do I still need to call him Brett? Or can I call him Jericho now?
He said that it was the most precious thing to my father.
“You’re my father.” I had told him.
“My hint still stands.”
I bit my lip, opening the laptop. No need to plug it in. I was sure that it would shut off in an instant. It never had time to run the battery down before its black screen taunted me with another failure.
I booted it up. The same password screen emerged. I held my breath.
I typed in my own name, Rose.
It danced, but booted me. Probably too short.
So I typed in Rose Marie, expecting it to go blank and switch off for another 24 hours. I was about to walk away when there was a low tone, like someone hitting all the low keys on a piano.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when the screen opened.
The photo in the background made my heart stop. It was a picture of my mother. She was young, wearing a sweater on top of a lacy camisole. The sleeves were long and went down to her knuckles. Her hair was puffed at the top, thick and wavy. There was a man beside her. He was young too, with my jawline and eye shape. His hair was black, spikey and… were those frosted tips?
